


In every universe...

by Useless_Lesbian_1969



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chuck Shurley Being an Asshole, Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Episode: s05e04 The End, Episode: s08e17 Goodbye Stranger - The Crypt Scene, Episode: s09e22 Stairway to Heaven, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Episode: s12e12 Stuck In The Middle (With You), Purgatory, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:03:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26239060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useless_Lesbian_1969/pseuds/Useless_Lesbian_1969
Summary: "Chuck stared at his laptop, lost in thought. On one hand, he should be angry, his creations going off script in one of the most important aspects of a story. But on the other hand, he couldn’t really control it. No matter where they were or what happened, if there was a Dean Winchester and Castiel, they would find each other and never let go."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	In every universe...

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This was really fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Take one, Earth 4:  
It had been two years since Detroit. Two years since Sam said yes. Two years since Croatoan ravaged the land and its people, and Dean was getting fed up.   
It was only supposed to be a simple supply run. In, get the meds, get out. The plan had been foolproof, worked on and picked apart by everyone in camp, but as soon as Dean and his squadron stepped into the abandoned pharmacy everything went sideways.   
Coming back empty handed was always hard on the camp, it meant lives lost, people turned, and an angry Dean. It was always the same, failure meant slammed doors, shouting, and harsh words, directed at every one who dared get in his way. After a while, the list of people who had enough guts to talk to him after a bad errand got shorter and shorter, until there was only one name left. Castiel, the fallen. That was what people called him at first, Angel, winged, halo, but after two years of humanity and camaraderie, Cas was the most common.   
The cars were met at the gates by the standard “Welcome back let’s make sure you’re not a psycho zombie” party, Andi, Sydney, Deedee, and as always, Cas. As Dean stepped out of the jeep it was obvious the plan had gone wrong. His eyes were cold and unforgiving, more so than usual, and his clothes had some red spots that hadn’t been there when they left. Leaving the door open, he marched over to where the four were standing, grunted out a sharp, “Move,” and practically pushed his way through the group. Like clockwork, it took approximately two and a half seconds for Cas to follow, leaving the others behind for the testing.   
The look in Dean’s eyes as he stormed over to his cabin was enough to get people to practically leap out of his way. Cas followed in silence, bracing himself for what was to come. Dean finished his walk up the stairs and opened the door, but didn’t enter the cabin like he normally would. Instead, he stepped aside, holding the door for the former angel. Cas didn’t hesitate to walk into the cabin, it was something he had done many times before. Following after, Dean let the door close behind him, blocking out the rest of the camp.   
“How many?” Cas asked after a moment from his place on Dean’s bed.   
“Three- four if you count Wally,” Dean replied, closing his eyes and leaning against the wall. Wally had been bitten, and as always, Dean was the one who had to pull the trigger before he turned.   
“Jane was first,” he continued. “She went for the stuff in the back, but they were waiting. Wally tried to get to her but a few jumped down from the ceiling and, well, you know.”  
Cas did know, all too well, but he stayed silent. He knew that Dean needed this time to process everything, and he knew that he was the only one who would stay and help.  
Dean’s eyes were still closed, his arms still crossed, but he went on, “Mark went after two others, but his shotgun jammed and he was too slow to draw his blade. I tried to help him but um, one jumped me before I could get a shot off. Ally got it off of me but she was next. At this point I was shouting at everyone else to back off, to leave, and Wally tried to follow but I saw what had happened to him so-” he cut off, looking down.   
“You did what you had to do, Dean, he knew that,” Cas reassured.  
“You didn’t see his face Cas,” Dean raised his head, looking at the other man. “You didn’t see the look in his eyes when I raised my gun to shoot him in the head!” he spat, his voice getting louder with each word. He seemed to deflate after this, “you’d think after two years of this shit I’d be used to it,” a chuckle escaped his lips, “I should be used to it.”  
“Dean, taking someone’s life is never easy. The fact that you feel this way is a good thing, it means you care, it proves that you’re kind and compassionate and a good person.” Cas stood up, the mattress creaking due to the shift. Walking closer towards him, He continued, “One of the hardest parts of being human is the struggle between right and wrong, believe me, it was much easier as an Angel. Every day you make some of the hardest choices a person can make, but you do it for the good of the world, for the good of your people.” Cas gestured to the door, Dean’s eyes following. “Those people out there depend on you to take care of them, I can’t even imagine the stress you’re under, but every day you make the right choices, and every day those people out there live to see the next one.” Cas stared intently at the man in front of him, wishing he could make him understand how much he respected and cared for him. Dean’s eyes flicked down to Cas’s mouth and then back up, laughing softly.   
“Cas, you make me sound like some sort of hero,” he breathed out.   
“Dean, you save people, you care about them, you risk your life for the good of others, that’s the literal definition of a hero, and you’re an idiot if you can’t see that.”   
“You calling me an idiot, Cas?” A ghost of a smile flickered on Dean’s lips, as he leaned closer to the other man.  
“Oh always, just never to your face,” Dean laughed, and then they were kissing.   
It was soft, and gentle, filled with years of pining and tension, and-

“Woah woah woah, what?” Chuck asked, confused. He got up from where he was sitting in his cabin and walked over to his laptop which had since stopped typing. He began to read, “Seriously, where the hell did this even come from?” With a wave of his hand he attempted to erase what had just been written, but no matter how hard he tried, the scene always showed up at a different part of the script.   
Swiping a hand over his face, Chuck sighed. “Alright then, time for a change of scenery.”

Take two, Earth 16:  
Dean opened the lid of the box, revealing the source of all of their trouble- the angel tablet.   
“Winner winner chicken dinner,” he said, carefully lifting it out of its casing and closing the lid.   
“Good,” Cas replied, “Hand it to me and I’ll take it to Heaven.” Dean looked up in surprise, brow furrowing at the statement.  
“No,” he corrected, “we will take it to Kevin so he can translate it.”  
“Right. Of course. I’ll take it to him right away. No time to waste.”   
Dean’s eyes darted around the room, trying to come up with a reasoning for why Cas was acting so strange. Playing it safe, he said, “Well, he’s not that far. I’ve been meaning to… go check up on him, bring him some supplies.” The lie was unconvincing, but Dean knew Cas wouldn’t force it out of him.   
Naiomi’s harsh voice cut a path through Cas’ consciousness, “If the Demons get their hands on the Angel tablet they’ll kill us all. They’ll destroy Heaven.”  
Castiel’s eyes racked his mind, trying to come up with a clear solution to the problem, other than the one he knew Naiomi was seconds away from suggesting.   
“I can reason with Dean, he’s a good man,” Cas pleaded.  
And then came the order. “Kill him.”  
Back to reality, “I can resupply the prophet, Dean.”  
They were circling each other, waiting for one to strike or run, neither wanting the outcome that was inevitable.   
“You know uh, why don’t Sam and I take it over to him, and you can get back to your mission?” Dean began to brace himself for an attack, shielding his body and the tablet away from the Angel. “Finding the other half of the Demon tablet- that is priority, isn’t it?”  
Dean looked into Cas’ eyes, they were cold and harsh, completely unlike the soft blue Dean had been so accustomed to seeing. No, his eyes only got like this when he was ready to attack and Dean knew it, he just had hoped to never be on the receiving end of that stare ever again.  
“I can’t let you take that, Dean.” And there he was, Castiel, the angel of the Lord, the soldier, the weapon, and something broke inside Dean as he finally accepted that he wasn’t getting out of that room without a fight.  
“Can’t or won’t,” he said, voice tempting, begging for an answer.  
“Both.”  
His jaw set, Dean looked down at the tablet and then back up at the angel, asking a question he had asked a long time before, “How did you get out of Purgatory, Cas?”  
Back to the office, “There has to be another way.”  
“You have done this a thousand times, Castiel.” His eyes looked down, remembering all of them. All of the Deans, dead at his hands. The hundreds he refused to kill, only to have them ripped apart in front of him by a steady hand, an unwavering voice calling “Again.” That voice, it came again, forcing him back to the present,“You’re ready. Kill him, then take the tablet, and bring it home where it belongs.” Cas’ head lifted at this statement, ready to say something, but then he was back in the warehouse.  
“Just tell me how you got out of Purgatory, be honest with me- for the first time since you’ve been back- and this is yours.”  
His stare didn’t waver as he drew his angel blade, the weapon he had used to kill Dean far more times then he’d care to remember. The weight in his hands was a comfort as he screamed inside his mind.   
Dean glanced down at the blade and then back up at the person in front of him. “Cas, Cas I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you but if you’re in there and you can hear me, you don’t have to do this! Cas!” he yelled as the Angel brought his blade down on him, as Dean lifted the tablet in defense.   
There was a crash of thunder and lighting and then Cas was yet again, encased by a white room. “This isn’t right” he pleaded, pacing the room.   
“Do you realize what that tablet can do for us?”  
“I-”  
“For Heaven?”  
Cas looked up, righteous fury in his eyes, “I won’t hurt Dean.”  
“Yes. You will. You are.”  
Suddenly Dean was in front of him, defensive yet defiant.  
“Cas, fight this! This is not you! Fight it!” He yelled over the thunder. Castiel’s blade came crashing down another time, but it was yet again deflected by the tablet.   
Naiomi was standing now, watching as Cas grabbed his head, begging it to stop.  
“What have you done to me?” He cried as he tried to straighten out the mess in his mind.   
“Just relax, Castiel. Let your vessel do what you know deep down is the right thing.”  
“What have you done to me Naiomi,” he questioned again, this time in the dark room, Dean in front of him.   
“Who’s Naiomi?”   
The answer, “What have I done to you? Do you have any idea what it’s like out there?” Cas began to step backwards. “There’s blood everywhere, and it’s on your hands. After everything you did- to us, to Heaven. I fixed you Castiel. I fixed you.”  
“Cas!” Dean cried, his hand reaching out to touch the Angel’s shoulder. But what looked back at him was not Cas. His left arm came out of nowhere and knocked Dean against the wall, dropping the tablet. Picking it back up, Dean moved towards the exit, but it was blocked by the person he was hoping to get away from. Seeing no other option, Dean raised his fist and tried to land a punch, but Castiel grabbed it and twisted it hard, making him scream in pain and drop the tablet, cracking it out of its clay casing. Thunder crashed again, and Castiel forced Dean to the ground. One, two punches and Dean’s face was covered in blood.   
“You want it?” he asked, nodding towards the tablet. “Take it,” he spat out, “But you’re gonna have to kill me first.”   
Castiel’s blank stare slowly turned back towards Dean, a challenge in his eyes. “Come on you coward, do it. Do it!” He yelled.   
Three, four punches and suddenly he was standing in front of a desk. “Please,” he begged.   
“End this, Castiel.”  
Five. “Cas, this isn’t you,” he choked out. “This isn’t you!”  
Six, “Bring me the tablet!” came the demand.  
Seven, raising the blade, “Cas. Cas, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me.” He reached up with his free hand as far as he could. “Cas, it’s me,” voice breaking, Dean continued. “We’re family,” he said, profound bond and whatnot, but Cas’s stare didn’t change. “We need you, I-” he hesitated, right hand gripping onto the trenchcoat Cas never takes off. “Cas, I love you.”  
The blade drops. His eyes soften. Cas slowly moves his hand to cup Dean’s cheek. A slight glow is emitted, and all of the cuts and bruises disappear. He grabs the tablet, whispers a soft, “I’m sorry” and vanishes. Dean is left-

“Oh come ON!” Chuck yells. “As if three dumb words would be able to break through HEAVEN’s mind control. Cliche and boring, let’s change that.” Fingers gliding over the keys, Chuck aimed to rewrite the whole scene. After three hours of writing he stopped, “This is unsalvageable.”  
Snapping his fingers, God created the universe. Again.

Earth 78:  
“Where’s the angel”. That one simple question seemed to make up the entirety of Dean Winchester’s vocabulary. Night after night, day after day, it was all he thought about, finding the angel and getting the hell out of Dodge. He lost track of how many vamps, wolves, and shifters he killed, all he knew was that he had gotten a sort of reputation among the monsters in purgatory.  
“Where’s the Angel?” he demanded of one vamp as he held her pinned on the ground, knife to her throat.  
“Oh yes, I heard the Winchester was looking for his pet.” Her fanged teeth curled up into a smile as Dean’s blade pushed harder against her throat. “Very sorry, but I have no idea where your boyfriend is. All I know is that he ditched your sorry little ass the sec-” Dean’s arm moved on reflex and she was cut off mid-sentence. Her head rolled a few feet before coming to a stop. Dean watched it, fury in his eyes.  
“I think we should take a break,” came the southern drawl from behind him. “You’re gonna die from exhaustion at this rate.”  
“We keep going,” Dean replied, rising from his spot on the ground when a hand settled on his shoulder.  
“Dean, I’m beggin’ you, take a damn break. You look like hell, two hours of sleep oughta do ya some good. If your angel is as powerful as you say, I think he can survive a little longer without you.”  
Dean tensed up, debating whether or not to shrug Benny off, but his eyelids had started to droop and he realized that the vamp was right, he needed to sleep.  
Two hours later and Benny was out cold, but Dean just couldn’t fall asleep. No matter how hard he tried his mind was always elsewhere. Whenever he got like this there was only one thing that would help.  
Dean sat up, leaning against the nearest tree, legs stretched out in front of him, blade in his hand. He made sure Benny was still sleeping, and then he closed his eyes.  
“Cas, I don’t know if you’re getting these, hell I don’t know if I want you to be,” he started. “I can’t sleep- again. I know it’s not healthy but guess what, neither is hunting monsters in freaking Purgatory but,” he looked around, “look where I am now. Cas, buddy, I’m lost here, I keep fighting and winning but it doesn’t mean anything.” He licked his lips, silently vowing to never take chapstick for granted ever again, and then continued. “Not without..” he trailed off. “Cas it doesn’t mean anything to me if you’re not there. A win isn’t a win if we lose you- if I lose you.” Dean sat in silence for a while, keeping the prayer unfinished. It was the closest he could get to his angel in those moments.   
He cleared his throat, “I’m still pissed at you by the way, don’t think this means you’re off the hook. But uh, if you’re dead,” he continued, “I can’t be mad at you, and I’m mad at you so you have to stay alive. Cas just-” Dean sighed, closing his eyes one last time, “just don’t die, ok? I need you.” And with that, Dean closed the line of communication, the “I love you” left hanging in the balance.   
Head resting against the tree, Dean felt his eyes droop.   
In the morning, he woke up to the ghost of a kiss lingering on his cheek and a faint memory of soft blue eyes.

“Now this is just a poorly written fanfiction!” Chuck yelled at his computer screen.  
“Can you PLEASE keep it down,” came a voice from the other side of the lavish room. “I’m doing my yoga.”  
“Amara, just listen to this,” Chuck replied, standing up and moving over to where his sister was. “‘A win isn’t a win if we lose you- if I lose you’ ridiculous.” He shook his head, eyes skimming the pages, “Ooh, or how about” he began to read in a mocking voice, “‘he woke up to the ghost of a kiss lingering on his cheek and a faint memory of soft blue eyes,’ like what!” he laughed, gesturing to the screen. “Who wrote this, some fifteen year old lesbian who doesn’t know how the world works?”  
There was a sigh as Amara shifted to tree pose, “Actually Chuck, you’re the one with the laptop so I’m pretty sure you were the one who wrote it.” She began. “Do you want my honest opinion about this?”  
Chuck rolled his eyes behind her back, “Yes I’m sure that would be VERY helpful.”  
“Good,” came the reply. “I actually kind of like it. I think it’s sweet and Dean and Cas seem like a good match, I don’t understand why you hate it so much!”  
Chuck spluttered, “It’s not good, it’s sappy and cliche and Dean isn’t even into guys-”  
“Cas isn’t technically a guy, he’s an angel.”  
“Yeah yeah, whatever, semantics,” he continued. “Supernatural is about Sam and Dean,” he started, smiling. “All about them, their struggles, their downfalls, they don’t have time for romance.”  
“What about Amelia?”  
“Well that was-”  
“Or Lisa?”  
“See-”  
“What about Cassie, or Anna, ooh or even Eileen?”  
“LOOK,” he yelled, “Dean and Cas is never gonna happen!”  
Amara finally turned to face him, “What universe are you on? How many have you created?”   
“Millions, why?”  
“How many do you check up on?”  
“So far? Seventy eight.”  
She moved closer, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring down her brother.   
“And in how many have Dean and Cas gotten together?”  
Chuck stopped, looking down. He squirmed uncomfortably under Amara’s gaze.   
“Seventy seven,” came the reply.  
“I’m willing to bet it’s the same in almost all of them. Chuck, when will you learn, these are people you’re writing. They have lives, and free will, and you can’t stop them from falling in love when you leave them alone! Want my advice?” she asked as she moved back to her mat.  
“Not particularly, no,” Chuck mumbled, kicking the edge of the carpet.  
“Let it happen, let it go.”  
Chuck sighed, picked up his laptop, and went back over to his designated corner of the room. He opened up all of the drafts on his computer, picked one, and began to read.

Earth 159:  
“I love you. I love all of you.”  
The words echoed through Dean’s mind the entire drive back to the bunker. They stayed there as “good nights” were exchanged and his family shuffled off to their own little corners.  
“I love you” rang in his ear, told so softly, but deafening to him.   
That’s what he held onto as he choked out a, “Cas, wait,” directed at the Angel. His body reacted immediately, almost instinctively, to move and allow Mary and Sam access to the hallway. As their footsteps receded Dean’s heart began to beat louder than the words in his mind.   
Cas turned to face him, hesitance clear in his eyes. His shoulders were stiff, jaw clenched as if waiting for a blow to the face.   
“Cas man, relax,” Dean started, eyeing the angel. “Um, are you ok, you know after today and... stuff?”  
“Yes Dean, I’ll be fine.”  
Dean shifted his bag, unsure of what to do. He took a deep breath, “Back at the barn did you-” he shook his head. “Nevermind. Forget it.” Waving his hand, Dean moved to walk around the Angel but stopped himself when he saw his shirt, still ripped and bloody from before.  
Images, sounds, they all came flooding back, hitting Dean like a sucker punch to the face. Cas, lying there half dead on the floor of the barn, preaching his goodbyes and sure it was his end. It was too much for Dean to process, it still was.   
Then a voice snapped Dean out of his head, “Dean, are you ok?”  
“Yeah man,” he started, “I just- look you almost died today, and I guess I’m kinda-” he sighed, “I don’t know; words and emotions and shit aren’t exactly my thing.”  
“Dean I’ve known you for eight years, it’s not exactly hard to pick up on that,” Cas huffed a small laugh.  
“Right, but uh, you’re, good with- with words I guess? You don’t mix them up or say something when you mean something else- you know what I mean.” he sighed in frustration, missing the suppressed smile that played across Cas’ lips. “So what you said in there, the-” he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was so loud inside his head but when he tried to vocalize it, there was nothing but deafening silence. He barely registered movement, and then Cas was right there in front of him, eyes searching his for- something. He seemed to find it and began to close the gap between them, but at the last second he stopped, waiting.  
Dean knew if he pulled away now everything would go back to normal. Cas wouldn’t talk about it ever again, and he would never have to deal with the way he felt. But there was an opportunity for him to be happy, to have the one thing he thought he’d never have in his life, why would he throw that away?   
The kiss was soft and gentle. It wasn’t at all like Dean had imagined. He always thought he’d kiss Cas in a moment of weakness, fit of rage, and it would be glorious for half a second until he was pushed away and cursed out. But this? This was so much better than anything he could have possibly thought up. Pulling away, Cas rested his forehead against Dean’s both just reveling in each other’s company. It was grounding and calming, a moment of peace in a warzone. Sure, the world was ending, but when was it ever not for the Winchesters? They had each other, and that was really all that mattered in the end.

“Damn.”  
A sigh came from across the room. “What is it this time? Are they too out of character? Maybe the dialogue seems forced. Or your personal favourite, ‘too cliche’?”  
Chuck glared at his sister, “Yeah Amara, try all of the above.” He took off his glasses and shifted his body in the chair to face his sister. She lifted one of the cucumbers from her eyes, and sank deeper into the hot tub.   
“Here we go again,” she sighed. “Chuck, what’s the big deal? Is it because you don’t think Dean would be into guys?”  
“That’s not the issue,” he said, dejectedly.   
“Then what is?” Amara asked, dripping with sarcasm.  
“It was never supposed to happen.”  
Amara was neck deep in the water, her arms hanging over the sides. “Chuck, I swear to-” she hesitated, “you I guess- if you don’t let this go I’m kicking you out.”  
Chuck seemed to contemplate this for a moment, waited until Amara had completely submerged herself in the water, and then turned back to open draft 460.

Earth 460:  
Dean walked into the library leaving Sam to finish packing up. He dropped his bag and walked over to where Cas was sitting. Pulling out a chair, he sat down across from the Angel, the events of the day and what was to come looming over them.   
“I’m fine,” Cas began, aware of what Dean was going to ask.  
“No you’re not,” came the reply, fast and clear. It took them a while to get to this point, open communication, understanding. “How long you got?”  
Cas shifted in his chair, looking around the room. “Long enough to destroy Metatron, I hope.”  
Dean nodded, knowing all too well the feeling of a completely impossible task.  
“But without an army,” Cas continued, trailing off.  
“Well, hey, you still got us,” Dean reassured. He smirked and lifted his eyebrows to make a face, trying to make light of the shitshow they were in.   
Cas averted his gaze, guilt visible on his face. He leaned into the table, “Dean. Those bombers-” he hesitated. “You don’t really think that I-”  
Dean cut him off, “Cas you just gave up an entire army for one guy. No, there’s no way that you blew those people away.”  
Cas leaned back in his chair, fidgeting with his hands. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, and then Dean started talking again.  
“Why’d you do it?” He asked, head down, his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor.  
Cas’ head shot up in alarm.   
“You needed those angels to fix heaven and beat Metatron, you should’ve killed me. I mean, I’m just one person, Cas, what’s one life against billions, right?” At this Dean turned his gaze to meet Cas’, but what he saw wasn’t the pity or confusion that he would’ve gotten from Sam. What he saw in the angel’s eyes was more along the lines of anger, and it was directed at him. Shrinking back into his chair, Dean’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What?” he asked, completely oblivious to the angel’s feelings.  
Castiel’s stare hardened for a quick second, and then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.   
“Dean,” he started, voice much lower than usual, “do you know how old I am?”  
“Um, very?”  
“Billions of years. I am older than the atoms all around you, older than your tiny little universe.” His eyes popped open, staring directly at the man in front of him. “I was alive long before humans were even a thought in my father’s mind. I am older than the stardust early humans prayed to, older than the sun, the moon, the rocks. And yet, after billions of years of surviving, I hadn’t truly lived. That is until I met you.”  
Dean sat frozen in his chair, eyes wide, mouth slightly agape. Cas leaned forward so his arms were resting on the wooden table.   
“Hester was right you know, when I first laid a hand on you in hell I was lost, lost to Heaven, to my duty, but in that loss I found freedom and purpose. For the first time since Lucifer, an Angel chose free will, and it was all because of you. You may just be one man, but you mean more to the world- to me, than any other who has walked the Earth.” Cas’ stare hardened again, “So how dare you believe anything else. How dare you tell me that I should’ve put my blade through your heart. How can you possibly believe I would do something like that when I have spent years trying to show you how much I care for you.”  
And suddenly it all clicked for Dean. The stares, the self-sacrifices, the unwillingness to hurt him, and Dean was overwhelmed. Sitting in front of him was an angel, one of the most old and powerful beings in the universe, someone who could wipe out everyone in the city with a snap of his fingers, and yet here he was, by his side as he had always been. This cosmic entity made of stardust, falling for a human, an insect, it was kind of absurd if he thought about it that way, and yet it happened.   
And oh had Castiel fallen, in every way imaginable.  
Dean grinned.

Chuck stared at his laptop, lost in thought. On one hand, he should be angry, his creations going off script in one of the most important aspects of a story. But on the other hand, he couldn’t really control it. No matter where they were or what happened, if there was a Dean Winchester and Castiel, they would find each other and never let go. And maybe Amara was right (although he’d never admit it to her face), maybe they were kind of a good match. And with that, Chuck went back to the start of it all, to understand once and for all where all of this had come from.

Earth 1:  
“Don’t ever change.”  
“I gave everything for you.”  
“I’m hunted, I rebelled, and I did it- all of it, for you.”  
“I’d rather have you, cursed or not.”  
“I did everything I could to get you out- everything.”  
“I was getting too close to the humans in my charge; you.”  
“I need you.”  
“I’ll go with you.”  
“Don’t make me lose you too.”  
“I don’t need to feel like hell for failing you like I failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about. I don’t need it.”  
“I need you.”  
“Dean and I do share a more profound bond.”  
“It’s a gift, you keep those.”  
“I’m your huckleberry.”  
“We are.”  
“Jack brought you back because we needed you back.”  
“I need you.”  
“The people who love me, they pulled me back from that ledge.”  
“Dean, stop.”  
“I prayed to you Cas, every night.”  
“Dean, it’s good to hear your voice”

“I need you”  
...  
“I love you”

Chuck closed his laptop, mind racing. It was always there, right in front of him, and now he saw it clear as day. He chuckled to himself.   
“Now this? This could be good.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, thank you so much for reading!


End file.
